


When You Break

by onewingedbird



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 02:22:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2049744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onewingedbird/pseuds/onewingedbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Won't you lay here by my side? I want to fuck away all my fear.</p><p>Or: It could be as simple as Liam loves Zayn, Zayn loves Liam and the two live happily ever after. But it's not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            Zayn hadn’t understood before how anyone could stay with someone who it hurt to love. The entire point of a relationship is to help each other stave away the loneliness and crushing weariness the world threatens to engulf you in. If being with someone doesn’t provide even that momentary relief, what’s the point of it? His mouth would twist and his eyes would fill with a mixture of pity and scorn when he saw someone trailing after a person that clearly didn’t love them enough, or anymore, not the way they needed. Until he was the one chasing after a beginning he couldn’t find his way back to.

            All the lights are on in the house. The television’s on in the other room reverberating Julia Robert’s laugh throughout the house. The neighbors are arguing in the room above. He can hear a door slam and bang open again. He’d put his iPod on shuffle. The knuckle on his middle finger holds a bruise from the minutes he’d spent clutching his pencil trying and failing to sketch something. He lie on his back in the bedroom with his eyes closed replaying every good moment he could think of, all of the moments that were his excuse not to drag the half-filled duffel bag that’s been in the closet for weeks and get the hell away from this place.

            It’s hours later, he’s sure, when he wakes. His body feels heavy and he is underneath the covers in only his boxers with an arm lazily resting on his waist. He disentangles their legs and rubs at his eyes. Zayn sits up with a sharp inhale, his nostrils constricted as he watched Liam, his face slack and peaceful. He reaches out a hand to shake him awake but found it cupping his jaw instead, his thumb stroking down to Liam’s neck. He lies back down and shuffles closer to Liam breathing him in.

            Liam wakes to Zayn’s steady, mournful gaze on him. Liam stares back until Zayn leans into him and touches their lips together. It is languid and tastes a bit salty. Soon, Liam is clutching at the back of Zayn’s neck, deepening the kiss and rolling him onto his back. Coming apart and coming together for next few minutes until Zayn can feel Liam harden against him. Liam grasps Zayn’s hand trailing down to cup him. “Don’t.”

            Zayn’s eyes flutter and gradually, their kisses slow until their gasps quiet and Liam, both hands on the side of Zayn’s face, stares down at him, his thumbs tracing his sharp cheekbones, his eyes capturing every miniscule movement and expression to commit to memory. “It’s over, isn’t it.” His head moves up and down, dropping his tears onto Zayn’s face. There is a moment of nakedness then, both of their eyes meeting and all the tension leaving Zayn’s body, a sense of relief coming over him. And then Liam pulls back to rest on his heels. Zayn runs a hand down his face, surprised to find it didn’t shake. The worst had happened and the world did not end as they say.

            Zayn throws his legs over the side of the bed, hands firming for a moment around the edge. “Thank you,” he said. He lifts his head up. “I’ve been waiting for you to let me go for months now.”

            “I know.”

            “I couldn’t just… give up.”

            “I know,” he sobs.

            Zayn smiles then, only the slightest upturn of his lips but his eyes shine with gratitude for the briefest moment before his face crumbles. He hates himself. He leans forward falling into Liam until he falls backwards onto the bed, aware of Liam’s heart beating frantically against his chest, of the wetness falling onto his shoulder.

            “I don’t want to go,” he says in a quivering voice. “I keep thinking we can fix it, Li. We can fix it if we just stay and try. I love you. I love you so much.” Zayn’s eyes fill with a flood he refuses to release. He has to be as strong as Liam is, as reasonable. “We can just find that moment it went wrong, right? Right, Li?”

            Liam shakes his head and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “I don’t think it exists.” He burrows into him, legs entwining and holding Zayn in place. He wants to stay in this moment for just a bit longer. Once it’s done, it’s really over; he’ll be gone and he’ll be alone and Liam doesn’t know that either of them will be able to stand seeing the other without shaking this resolve to be apart anytime soon.

            They fall asleep like that, emotion and the sudden release of tension exhausting them. When they wake again, Zayn glances at the clock and only an hour has passed at the most. Liam’s back is pushing against Zayn’s grip to look at him. His eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed. His lips are chapped and Zayn spares a second to remember that he’s not allowed to kiss him anymore.

            “I do love you,” Zayn says on a whimper. He should leave. He should let go. Why can’t he just let go? Liam purses his lips in the saddest, resigned smile Zayn’s ever seen on him. He doesn’t want this. Neither of them seem to but he can’t find another recourse that doesn’t involve them staying in this and eventually tearing each other apart.

            _I love you,_ Zayn had kept saying into his skin. “Not enough though. Not as much as I love you.”

            “I wanted to.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning.

**Two Years Earlier**

                The first time he sees him is as cliché as every young adult novel he’s read, every movie he’s curled up next to Louis to make fun of because both of them are in that stage of life where they’re doubting it’ll happen for them and thus turn to cynicism. He imagines that everyone who meets this guy– or has the opportunity to ogle him across the room like he is – has the same startling time-stands-still, heart races, sweaty palms moment though. He must be the most attractive man who’s stepped foot into this shop, this town, this country. Perfect cheekbones, long eyelashes, unmarred skin, he looks like a model after all of the touch-ups and airbrushing. But he’s got tattoos littering his skin and is wearing a t-shirt and skinny jeans that look effortlessly put together and not in that “I want this to look like something I just threw on but I actually spent two hours looking through my closet for this” way which makes Liam doubt that he’s just stepped out of some photoshoot.

                He doesn’t mean to be creepy but he can’t help watch this entirely too fit bloke idle his way through the bestsellers on the ground floor, picking up the hardcovers and reading each inside flap while he worries his mouth. Niall must be equally as mesmerized as Liam is because he’s by the man’s side presumably asking what he’s looking for. He wishes he could hear their conversation from here, hear the laugh that he can only see brighten up Zayn’s face. It’s… life-altering. The world stops and starts and he knows in some dark corner of his mind because everything else is _shit shit wow_ that he could spend the rest of his life trying to earn that. Thankfully, the queue hasn’t filled up enough for customers to come down to his register so he’s given time to stare and catch his breath. If he can.

                The man’s nodding at Niall with a grateful grin and moving towards the escalator to go downstairs. Before he can stop think that the basket for books belonging there isn’t even fool, he’s grabbed it, mumbled to his supervisor and followed him down. He drops the basket off at the desk and looks around for him, walking slowly to the bathroom in case Louis’ comes out of the break room and he needs an excuse.  He finds him standing facing the self-help and sexuality shelves with his hands at his waist, eyes roaming slowly through the titles. He takes a moment to wipe his hands on the front of his black jeans and make sure his tie is straight. He touches a hand to his skin, thanking fuck that he’s not as sweaty as he feels. He’s thinking of what he could say that wouldn’t make him sound like a useless twat when the man turns to look at him.

                He tenses, crosses his arms loosely and steps closer to the shelves behind him. “Sorry, do you need to get by?” he asks though there’s plenty of room for Liam to pass him slight as he is.

                “Oh, no,” Liam chuckles. “I work here, actually, was wondering if you needed any help?” The hopeful lilt to his voice is not as pronounced as it seems to his own ears, he’s sure. The man’s eyes flick down to his nametag and he gives a small smile when he looks back up.

                “I could do, yeah. My boyfriend’s a human sexuality professor. Looking to get him something new,” he says. “Don’t want it to be inaccurate though, you know? And I’m not well-versed in the subject myself yet.” There’s a bit of pink on his cheeks as he says the last and Liam’s sure there’s a reason for that but his brain is stuck on _boyfriend_ and hasn’t caught up just yet. It shatters all the fantasies he’d yet to consciously acknowledge but he’s so stupid, he can’t help thinking. Of course, this guy, this fucking Adonis would not be single. And even if he was, why would he bother looking at Liam once let alone twice?

                Liam clears his throat and scans the titles until he finds **The Ethical Slut** and hands it to Zayn. “I’ve never seen anyone buy this one, but I took a class once and we read an excerpt. It was interesting if nothing else.”

                “I don’t know,” he says reading the front cover, eyes glued to the subscript.

                “Trust me on this. It’s really fascinating.”

                He looks away from the book to Liam and holds his gaze. “Alright, Liam. I’ll trust you.” He drags out the vowels and swallows the last consonant and again, Liam thinks that this could be how he spent forever, making this gorgeous bloke laugh and say his name over and over again with varying degrees of urgency and want and his cock is thickening in his pants at the thought and –

                With a small wave of his hand, he’s gone, leaving Liam blushing and making his way to the toilet to hide until he’s calmed down. By the time he gets back to his register he’s acknowledged that he’s an idiot and it doesn’t matter that the man’s dating some proper adult professor because he’s just happy to have seen him and heard his voice and get a smile aimed in his direction. He wishes he’d have told him the truth and not fumbled through his awkward shyness, that he’d been bolder and more sure now that he knows he’ll never see him again: seeing you made my day.

                That would have been the beginning and the end of what could have been a very lovely story with sprawled limbs and lazy kisses and rearranging their lives so they can be as about each other as they’d like. Liam lets those thoughts go though, stays in with Niall and plays FIFA 14. Niall wins because he’s top and Liam isn’t trying as hard as he can. He goes to the shop and gets cookie dough ice cream and picks up their Chinese takeaway on his way back to their flat and reminds himself that “the one” is only one introduction away. That would have been the beginning and end of it.

                But he comes back into the shop the next day.

                Liam is rushing with this customer, skipping the offers for membership and gift cards and anything else they’ve got on that stupid list of how to hold up the people who just want a bloody book because Niall is working the registers today and he’s almost done with his customer and Liam so badly wants to talk to this guy, properly this time. And the fates or gods, Liam thanks them all, are on his side; Niall is pulling out a membership form from his drawer and Liam is able to wave him down to his register. He’s full of light just being able to see him again, all of his resignation forgotten. He’s happy until he notices that he’s looking somehow smaller today, shoulders hunched, eyes downcast and gripping the book far too tightly.

                “Alright, mate?” he greets, surprised to see him nod a bit shakily, none of the cheekiness from yesterday apparent. Liam looks down at the book from yesterday and the crumpled receipt he’s smoothing onto the counter.

                “I’d like to return this,” he murmurs.

                “Oh. Boyfriend didn’t like it then?” There’s a small wince at his eyebrows before he shakes his head again. “Alright,” he says smoothly, starting up the process. “Did you want you to get anything else in place of it?” What he really wants to ask is _are you really alright_ because he is so clearly not. His guy couldn’t have hated the book that much though, could he?

                He’s finished too quickly and handing him the return receipt to print his name and sign. Liam watches his hand move across the page. “Zayn,” Liam says aloud. Zayn continues writing, not bothering to look up. “It’s a nice name.” _Zayn_ slides the receipt and pen back across the counter and Liam can’t help the way his breath hitches when their eyes meet. “Do you want to look for something else to get him?” he stammers.

                “No, he… I’ve thought of something else.”

                Zayn smiles,  thanks Liam and he’s gone again before Liam can think of a reason that isn’t completely idiot for him to stay.


End file.
